All the Comforts of Home
by subsidingchaos
Summary: Future Fic - snapshot of an ordinary day in the Swarek household. One shot.


_Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Rookie Blue, including the characters. Many thanks to the show writers for creating them and thanks to RookieD for letting me borrow the Swarek children. _

Pulling him out of his dream, edging into the corners of his REM sleep and expanding rapidly, something in his waking conscience was telling him to open his eyes. He fought it at first, inner voice screaming that he wasn't ready to be awake yet, despite the feeling of being watched that was increasing by the second.

Finally giving into to the wakefulness his brain was so insistant upon, Sam slowly opened one eye and focused on the yellow light peeking through the shutters in his bedroom. His head pounded with lack of sleep, telling him he must have only been out for a few hours. Peering into the dim light he could make out a lump of something right next to his head. It took another minute but his eyes finally adjusted and he could see what had beckoned him from his sleep.

Peering over the edge of the bed were two big brown eyes, long lashes blinking in delight over the successful mission of waking Sam from his much needed slumber.

"Da!"

His son squealed triumphantly, a big smile and line of drool eclipsing the pacifier in mouth. Unable to resist the infectionness of his clear and present joy, Sam smiled and reached out to pat the young boy's hair.

"Hey buddy, how'd you get in here? Where's Mommy?"

Recognizing the mention of his mother's name, Noah frowned and tried again.

"Da! UP!"

Glancing at the clock and registering the fact he had only been asleep for four hours, Sam leaned over and picked him up, swinging the baby's legs over his torso and propping him up on his stomach. He bent forward and placed a kiss on his head, reveling in the clean newness of his son.

At fourteen months, he had been walking for weeks, but unlike his chatty sister who declared her wishes loudly at a year, Noah was just starting to communicate beyond pointing and grunts. Sam was thrilled, he was growing weary of the toddler version of Twenty Questions – "Graham crackers?" (shake of the head) "Dried apples?" (more emphatic shaking) "Banana?" (a frustrated screech). These encounters always left Sam feeling woefully inadequate and jealous of his three year old daughter, who seemed to speak "Noah" fluently and always understood what he wanted with the first point.

McNally had been unperturbed by their son's silence. "Stop worrying, Sam. He'll talk when he's ready. Why talk when you have an adoring older sister to give you anything you want before you even want it?" The fact it was his wife who was usually the calm, rational one when it came to their children never ceased to amaze Sam. Then again, he was completely unprepared for the amount of sheer adoration he felt for them, beginning at the moment he knew of their conception.

THAT didn't surprise him; their mother had his number the day he met her and no amount of jackassery on his part could change it.

Although their courtship was one for the books, (falling desperately in love, both refusing to acknowledge said love, not knowing what the hell to do once they did, trying to love other people, losing and finding each other again, finally getting their shit together) parenthood had not been all roses and sunshine either. The sheer work involved in raising two self-involved little humans on top of a demanding position as Head Detective took Sam by surprise. There seemed to be no end to the things that needed to be done or the chaos the house was thrown into when the little tornados were awake. He, of course, responded to the issue by backing off and retreating into work.

This did not go over well with the mother of his children.

He was finally cued into her frustration when he arrived home after thirteen hours of work and found her in her black lace bra and sweatpants, sprawled out with her eyes closed on the couch. Completely misreading the situation, he approached like a wolf on the prowl - making it as far as the top of her breasts before she gave him a good shove and an exasperated, "REALLY Sam!?" and huffed off to their bedroom.

He got a clue after that.

In fact, he called up Izzy Shaw the next day to find out when her next break at college was and if she would be willing to stay with kids while he took McNally away for a few days. He was even smart enough to rent the cabin they stayed in during their honeymoon and spent the better part of the first night bathing and massaging McNally, telling her how gorgeous she was, how in love with her he was, what a fabulous mother she was (not a lie to be found in a whole list of truths).

It worked better than one of Celery's love charms and the rest of the weekend was spent having long, languid sex marathons and honest conversations without having to worry about little voices calling out mid coitus or mid sentence. Sam made sure he checked in with McNally frequently after that - made sure he expressed his own fears and wants too. There were still arguments and moments of exasperation but they seemed to be able to work it out.

They were a good team, he and McNally.

His reverie was interrupted by the shrill voice of his daughter.

"Mama! He's in here – bothering Daddy!"

Every bit the older sister, Bella loved her brother with a fierceness unparalleled to anything he had ever witnessed, but she would throw him under the bus in a minute if it meant she could get the upper hand for awhile. She scooted into the room and clamored up into the bed, immediately snuggling next to Sam and Noah.

"Hey, Bell Bell. How are you today, pumpkin?"

Bella responded with a long stream of consciousness about her day, little voice chattering away in an exact replica of her mother. Noah giggled and clapped his hands, seeming to agree with his sister's report. Sam couldn't help but beam at his little girl and his son, couldn't imagine loving anything more.

The appearance of their mother in the doorway, hand on hip, prompted silence from both children. Since both he and McNally had to pull midnight shifts in rotation, the kids were taught early on that bothering a parent while they were sleeping was a no-no.

"Oh no! Hey you two, what are you doing in here? I'm so sorry Sam, I just got him down from changing him and getting him ready for his nap and I turned around for one second and he was gone..."

Breathless and disheveled and standing there in an old t-shirt and yoga pants, Sam couldn't remember her looking more beautiful than she did in this moment. For the hundredth time since he had known her, Sam was awe-struck by the thunderbolt that was Andy McNally.

"It's ok", he interrupted, finding his voice. "I don't mind, I missed them last night and didn't even get to see them before I went to bed this morning".

He smiled at her and held his hand out, beckoning her to the bed.

She shook her head. "Come on guys, nap time."

Bella protested. "Mommy, no! Please, can't we stay here with daddy? We'll be really quiet".

Sam didn't have the heart to back up Andy on this one so he tried for a compromise, "How about we have a family nap? You look like you could use a little rest too, sweetheart".

Andy sighed, taking a moment to consider before beaming at her family.

"Ok. But everyone goes to SLEEP."

After brief potty break for his daughter and the retrieval of his son's favorite stuffed dinosaur, the family was soon snuggled into the queen sized bed - Noah and Bella in the middle and, after much pleading on his behalf, Boo at the foot.

Smiling at their drowsy kids, McNally stretched her arm across the top of the pillows and reached for Sam's hand.

"It's a pretty good life, isn't it?"

Sam grinned at her and nodded, marveling yet again at what his life had become.

He never even saw it coming.

Within minutes, his three (four including the snoring dog at the foot of the bed) bunkmates were fast asleep, leaving Sam to watch them in wonder. Leaning over, he kissed the downy heads of his children before brushing his lips against the hand still clasped in his.

"It's a pretty great life, McNally", he whispered before succumbing to the waves of sleep rolling over him.


End file.
